


A Gift

by ElizabethWilde



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Interspecies, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethWilde/pseuds/ElizabethWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange encounters lead to strange thoughts and even stranger actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift

Boromir crept slowly through the trees. He heard breath harsher than his own ahead and soft groans-of pleasure or pain he knew not. Finally the trees parted into a small clearing and the man beheld a hobbit kneeling on the ground, bent forward almost as one suffering some great injury. The hobbit -unmistakably Frodo with those dark curls- panted for breath and moved in time with some unknown rhythm. Before Boromir moved closer or called out, he realized the purpose in Frodo's movements and flushed. To save face for them both, Boromir knew he should slip quietly away back through the trees. Camp lay close by, and Frodo seemed in no danger.

The unbidden desire to glimpse Frodo's face flushed with passion rose too quickly, accompanied by a stirring in the lower part of the man's anatomy. Indeed for a brief moment Boromir almost stepped closer. Instead he remained and watched with growing interest until finally the hobbit gasped and leaned forward a bit more. A few breathless moments passed for them both until Frodo stood and fastened his breeches once more.

Having allowed lust to get the better of him, Boromir considered too late Frodo's reaction to finding himself observed. Now two wide blue eyes filled with shock fixed on the warrior's face. "Ah... I... did not know anyone noted my absence." Frodo tried clearing his throat to cover the roughness of arousal to no avail. "Have you... um... waited long?"

Hoping to rectify his mistake, Boromir offered gently, "Long enough, little one, and I daresay the absence of one so vital is difficult to help noticing. As to this particular... activity... I believe we all on this journey have found need of release at some time or another. The road is long and oft lonely."

The hobbit flushed, then sighed as if resigned. "Indeed, though I doubt... but we must take rest when it is given. Will you walk with me back to camp?"

"Of course." Boromir moved aside and then fell into step at Frodo's side, resolved not to mention the incident again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the next day Boromir pondered the meaning of Frodo's pause, tried to puzzle out what the hobbit feared so his discovering. Certainly he had seen much already. When they made camp, Frodo seemed still to avoid his gaze. They had never claimed close friendship, but even pleasantries seemed now gone, and Boromir found the intangible barrier more irritating with each passing breath. It wore on his nerves more than the barely audible buzz of the Ring's dark refrain at the back of his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The calloused hand flew faster over heated flesh and Boromir groaned. The sound echoed in his ears, dulled mercifully by the trees as his thumb circled the head to spread milky fluid over the sensitive tip. In his mind, another hand carried out the act and other eyes stared into his own, eyes that smiled as the man whimpered and bucked into the imagined grip. "Frodo," he whispered as the pleasure crested and overcame him. "Frodo!" His eyes opened to find the startled owner of those in his fantasy standing just out of arm's reach. "F-Frodo..." No explanation came into Boromir's mind, and the hobbit fled before he managed to construct one. "Ah, Frodo..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days passed in silence much thicker than before. Boromir grew uneasy as Frodo remained apart and untouchable at least from him. One night he finally cornered the ringbearer after the fellowship took a long bath in a crystal-clear river with only Legolas remaining apart to keep watch. All though the ordeal -or so Boromir dubbed it silently- he fought to keep his gaze from the hobbit's pale, shining skin. He made great effort to ignore those pouting lips and the brilliant eyes shining as Frodo sometimes splashed or laughed at some comment of the other hobbits. Finally, after, they were alone for a few precious moments, trees surrounding them and goodly space between them and any of the others. "Frodo, please, at least speak to me. If I have offended you, tell me how to mend the error."

The hobbit's skin seemed white with the dark curls still wet and dripping moisture in streaks across his face. "No... it... you have done me no wrong. It is only that I find behaving as I should around you difficult," Frodo ventured. "I cannot say I understand why you... why you might think of me."

"I am sorry, Frodo. I would never ask you to return my feelings or indeed to understand them. Before meeting you, I might not have understood either." The man fell silent and looked like a prisoner awaiting sentencing.

To his surprise, Frodo gripped the front of his open tunic and urged the man to his knees, leaving them eye-to-eye. "You misunderstand my fears. You forget that I have lived longer than you and know something of the world despite my stature or appearance in your eyes. I worry not for your feelings but their source. If your thoughts turn in the dark, I would have them be of me and not the One Ring."

"Then we desire the same thing, for I can swear that the most private of my thoughts dwell only on you, Frodo," Boromir confessed in a somewhat breathless voice. "In the night I see your face, your eyes, taste your lips... and I long under the sun for an end to your fear of me."

Hearing desire and frustration merged in the words, Frodo moved one hand to the warm flesh beneath the man's tunic and the other up to touch a rough, unshaven cheek. "I do not fear you more than I fear myself. Less, perhaps, for I can see you when I am oft blind to my own desires. I am not blind now." Soft lips settled upon Boromir's and kissed them with skill that seemed unnatural in any being who appeared to be so innocent. There was no naiveté in Frodo's movements as he pulled Boromir closer and sucked his breath away. The hobbit's hard length pressing against his chest drew a loud groan from the man's trapped lips, and strong hands clutched at Frodo's hips.

"You... do you truly-" Boromir didn't get to finish the question as Frodo covered his lips again. Now small hands were working rather earnestly at removing his tunic. Jerking away to do the job more quickly and efficiently himself, Boromir flashed a smile. "Easier."

"Indeed." The same hands now returned as Frodo sank to his knees as well and began to unfasten Boromir's leggings. The hobbit smiled at his companion's sharp intake of breath and then laughed quietly. "Is it truly so hard to keep control, then?" he breathed as Boromir shifted to allow him to remove boots as well and make done with the entire business. 

"Entirely too difficult," Boromir responded while his hands rested on the hobbit's small but sturdy shoulders. 

Frodo merely laughed and sat back to examine the man's bare body with obvious approval. "Much better. Pity we have so often to wear clothing." A smile twitched at the corner of the hobbit's lips, but he covered it by making short work of his own pants and moving closer to Boromir once more. "Now that we are more suitably *un*clothed..."

This time Boromir took the initiative and covered the hobbit's soft mouth while his hands explored the delicate form offered. A million times he had thought of touching the glowing pale skin, and now it melted and quivered beneath his touch. Soon he felt Frodo thrusting forward against him and breathing heavily when their lips parted. "We can move slowly later. Now... I need you." The simple words made Boromir groan. 

"We have nothing to-"

Frodo pressed a small hand to the man's mouth and then fumbled for his jacket and a small vial concealed in the pocket. "This." He froze upon realizing Boromir's gaze rested now on the ring dangling from the silver chain about his neck. "Oh."

The man looked up and shook his head once. A shaking hand reached out for the ring but touched it only long enough to flip it around to hang behind the hobbit instead of over his chest. "It is you I desire, not the ring. Do not forget that."

"Give me a reason not to," Frodo breathed as he closed the space between them again and pressed the vial into Boromir's hands. 

"Little one, you-"

"Don't fear for my safety in this. Trust me." 

Though he opened his mouth to press the point further, Boromir found his breath stolen by a heated kiss and questing tongue. He fumbled with the bottle sightlessly and finally felt oil spill onto his fingers and the grass beneath them. Once certain that enough of the slick substance covered his calloused fingers, Boromir began searching for a more intimate target than the bottle. He knew the exact moment his finger grew close, for the hobbit in his arms shifted at once until the puckered entrance to his body pressed against the tip of the man's fingers.

Needing no further encouragement, Boromir pressed first one finger inside then, when Frodo begged huskily and pushed back once more, a second, scissoring and twisting until he felt the tight passage loosen a bit. "Ah... please... more..." Frodo bit gently into Boromir's neck and whispered, "Sit."

The man complied immediately, and before he could settle onto the ground, Frodo's weight pushed him down the rest of the way. He took a breath to speak and felt the hobbit begin to push himself down onto the hard length of his cock."Gods!" Boromir gasped, fingers flying to Frodo's hips to hold the hobbit still. "A moment. Just a moment..."

Frodo laughed throatily and did not move, though his body trembled from the effort. Need crept into the hobbit's voice as he moaned, "Please, let me take more. I need to feel you, Boromir."

With shaking hands, Boromir guided Frodo down at a pace that tortured and teased them both. Frodo's head fell back, his mouth open as the full length disappeared within his body. An incoherent sound of pleasure echoed from the hobbit's throat as Boromir continued to use his grip on Frodo's hips to move the smaller being up and then down once more. Biting his lip to keep from making more noise, Frodo tried to gain enough leverage to help set the pace, finally finding it and breaking Boromir's rhythm with a faster clip. "Like... I said... slow can come... oh... later." Fingernails worn ragged over the course of their journey dug almost painfully into Boromir's shoulders as the hobbit used to lever himself up and down.

Boromir took the hint gladly and his own hands matched Frodo's pace, lifting and slamming the hobbit back down at the perfect angle to strike the pleasure spot within. He saw the shudder of ecstasy wash through Frodo's body with each perfect stroke and knew that the hobbit would last no longer than he. Indeed as he pushed up again and Frodo drove himself downward, the hobbit thrust a hand against his mouth to muffle a cry of pleasure that no one back at camp could fail to notice if released and his seed spilled out over both of them. The contractions of the small body atop his and the sheer eroticism of it all brought Boromir to the brink and then over as Frodo's lips found his in a seductive kiss that muffled his groans and left him wanting even as orgasm brought him pleasure beyond anything he had ever known.

As they both came down from the height, Frodo's head rested on Boromir's shoulder and the man's arms twined around the hobbit's slight form. "I... never have I known anything so... ah... I fear you have robbed me of speech, little one."

The hobbit laughed and nuzzled his face against Boromir's neck. "I think you express yourself quite well without it, Lord Boromir," he teased before letting his lips touch the flesh so close to them and relishing the sigh from the man. "Perhaps another bath? If we remain thus much longer, I fear we will stick together permanently."

"And would that be so horrible?" Boromir asked as he drew back to see Frodo's face.

"No. Still... they will come looking." Smiling, Frodo rose, unable to stifle a sound of disappointment as Boromir's soft cock slid free of his body. They walked together to the lake and aided one another in cleaning the mess from their formerly spotless skin. 

A strange thought occurred to the man and he ventured, "What was it you feared so revealing that first night I found you?"

Knowing at once which night, Frodo smiled slightly. "A foolish crush that anyone my age would be loathe to admit. I should not be so easily taken."

"And who was the object of your affections?" Boromir asked with a smile. He knew better than to question Frodo's current intentions. The warm kisses they shared through the course of the bath stayed any doubts. 

"As I said, a foolish crush... Legolas." The hobbit actually flushed a bit as he met Boromir's amused gaze. "I fear that I am not immune to the effects of elven beauty."

"None among us are, and I should say even Gimli would be lying if he claimed otherwise," Boromir assured his new lover as they dried off and dressed to head back to camp. "I only hope that you can content yourself with one far less beautiful than yourself or Legolas."

The hobbit laughed merrily and pulled on his waistcoat. "I have decided I much prefer rugged to pretty. Now the only one you have to look out for is Aragorn." Even as Boromir's face registered shock and finally humor, Frodo made back for camp, prohibiting any retaliation.

"You will pay for that later, Frodo, mark my words!" Boromir called out quietly after him only to hear the hobbit's merry laughter coming back over the breeze. Smiling and shaking his head, the soldier followed his lover back to camp, any thought of the One Ring overtaken by sweet kisses and drowned in seductive blue eyes.


End file.
